Chapter 48

Chapter 48

The faithful of Chen Village, carrying pigs, sheep, and sacrificial offerings for Tripitaka and Bajie, raised a great clamor as they bore them straight to the Inspiration Temple and set them in place. The two children were placed at the highest seat. Sun Wukong turned and saw the incense, flowers, and candles on the offering table, and before him a golden placard inscribed with the words "The Deity, the Great King of Inspiration." There were no other images. The faithful arranged everything in order, then all bowed together toward the altar, saying: "Great King, Grandfather, on this day, this month, this year, this very hour, the principal sacrificers Chen Cheng and Chen Qing, together with all the faithful of Chen Village, of varying ages, respectfully observe the annual custom and present one boy named Chen Guanbao, one girl named Chen Yijinchen, together with pigs, sheep, and sacrificial offerings in due number, to be enjoyed by the Great King. Grant us favorable winds and timely rains, and abundant harvests of the five grains." When the prayers were finished, they burned paper horses and each returned to his own home—no more of this.

When Bajie saw the people dispersing, he said to Wukong, "Let's go home." Wukong said, "Where is your home?" Bajie said, "Let's go sleep at old Chen's house." Wukong said, "You fool, talking nonsense again. Since we agreed to this, we must fulfill their vow for them." Bajie said, "You're no fool, yet you call me one. We were just humoring them for a bit of fun—how could we actually go through with the sacrifice and treat it as real?" Wukong said, "When you do a thing, do it thoroughly. We must wait for the Great King to come and eat them—that would be a proper beginning and end. Otherwise, he'll send down disasters and bring harm upon them, which would be no good at all."

As they were speaking, they heard a great rushing of wind. Bajie said, "Bad news—the wind means he's coming." Wukong only said, "Don't speak. Let me answer him." In an instant, a demon appeared outside the temple gate. Observe his appearance:

Golden armor and golden helmet gleaming fresh,

A jeweled sash wound about him, wrapped in crimson clouds.

His eyes were bright as the evening's rising stars,

His teeth were set like rows of saw-blades, evenly spaced.

Beneath his feet the misty haze drifted and billowed,

Around him the foggy vapors swirled with warmth.

As he moved, gusts of chilling wind swept past,

Where he stood, layers of killing air grew cold.

He resembled a general who attended the imperial curtain,

Or a guardian spirit who watched a temple gate.

The monster blocked the temple gate and asked, "Which family makes the sacrifice this year?" Wukong answered with a smile, "Thank you for asking. The village heads are the households of Chen Cheng and Chen Qing." The demon, hearing this, thought with suspicion: "This boy is bold and speaks with such wit. In years past, those who were offered and consumed would not answer when questioned; asked a second time, their souls would be terrified out of them; and when I reached out to seize them, they were already dead. How is it that today this boy can answer so well?" The monster dared not come forward to seize him, and instead asked, "What are the names of the boy and girl?" Wukong said with a smile, "The boy is Chen Guanbao, the girl is Yijinchen." The monster said, "This sacrifice is the old rule from former years. Now that you have been offered to me, I shall eat you." Wukong said, "We dare not resist. Please enjoy us at your leisure." The monster, hearing this, still dared not lay hands on him. He blocked the gate and shouted, "Don't talk back to me! I always eat the boy first. This year I shall eat the girl first." Bajie was alarmed and said, "Great King, stick to the old custom—don't set a bad precedent."

The monster would not listen. He released his grip and seized Bajie. The fool leaped down, revealed his true form, snatched up his rake, and struck a blow with his hand. The monster withdrew his hand and moved forward, and there was a great clang. Bajie said, "I've pierced his armor!" Wukong also revealed his true form and looked—they were two fish scales the size of ice plates. He shouted, "After him!" The two leaped into the air. The monster, having come to the feast, had brought no weapon. He stood empty-handed amid the clouds and asked, "What manner of monks are you, coming here to bully people, breaking my incense offerings, and ruining my reputation?" Wukong said, "This wretch truly knows nothing. We are the disciples of the Tang Dynasty's Holy Monk Tripitaka of the Eastern Land of Great Tang, sent on imperial commission to the Western Heaven to obtain the scriptures. Yesterday, lodging for the night at the Chen household, we heard of a false demon who calls himself Inspiration, who every year demands the sacrifice of a boy and a girl. Out of our compassion and to save living souls, we have come to seize you, you wretch. Confess honestly at once: you eat two children each year—how many years have you been king here? How many boys and girls have you eaten? Count them all back to me, and I will spare your life." The monster, hearing these words, turned to flee. Bajie struck at him again with his rake but missed. The monster transformed into a wild whirlwind and plunged into the River Tongtian.

Wukong said, "No need to chase him. This creature must be something from the river. We'll wait until tomorrow to devise a plan to capture him and help our master cross the river." Bajie agreed and went straight back to the temple, where he carried the pigs, sheep, and sacrificial offerings, table and all, back to the Chen household. At that time, the Tang elder, Sha Wujing, and the Chen brothers were waiting in the hall. Suddenly they saw the two of them tossing the pigs and sheep and other things into the courtyard. Tripitaka came forward and asked, "Wukong, how did the sacrifice go?" Wukong told him everything—how he had called out the names, driven the monster away, and how it had plunged into the river. The two old men were overjoyed. They at once ordered the side rooms swept clean and beds prepared, and invited the master and his disciples to retire for the night—no more of this.

We return now to the monster, who had escaped with his life and returned to the water. He sat in his palace in silence, deep in thought. His aquatic kinsmen, great and small, asked him, "Each year our lord enjoys the sacrificial offerings and returns in good spirits. Why does he look so troubled today?" The monster replied, "In other years, after I had my fill, I brought back some surplus for you to enjoy. But today I did not even get a taste. My luck was low—I ran into a worthy opponent and nearly lost my life." The water creatures asked, "My lord, who was it?" The monster said, "He was a disciple of a holy monk from the Tang Empire in the East, journeying west to worship Buddha and seek the sutras. He disguised himself as a man and a woman and sat in the temple. He forced me to reveal my true form, and I barely escaped with my life. I have long heard it said that Tripitaka Tang is a holy man who has cultivated virtue through ten lifetimes, and that eating even a piece of his flesh will grant long life and immortality. I never expected that he would have such formidable disciples. They have ruined my reputation and destroyed my incense offerings. I have every intention of capturing the monk Tripitaka, but I fear I may not be able to do it."

Then from among the aquatic creatures there darted forward a spotted-clothed perch-woman. She approached the monster, bobbing and bowing, and laughed, "If our lord wishes to capture Tripitaka, what difficulty is there in that? Only tell me—if you catch him, will you reward me with some wine and meat?" The monster said, "If you have a plan, let us work together to capture the monk Tripitaka, and I will treat you as my sworn sister, and we shall feast together." The perch-woman bowed gratefully and said, "I have long known that our lord possesses the divine power to summon wind and rain, and the mighty force to churn the seas and overturn rivers. I only wish to know—can you make it snow?" The monster said, "I can." She continued, "Since you can make it snow, can you also bring on the cold to freeze the water?" The monster said, "Even more easily." The perch-woman clapped her hands and laughed, "Then it is very easy! Very easy!" The monster said, "Tell me then about this 'very easy' plan." The perch-woman said, "Tonight, during the third watch of the night, let our lord waste no time but quickly work his magic. Raise a blast of cold wind and send down a great snow, freezing the entire River Tongtian. Then let those among us who are skilled in transformation take on human forms and stand along the roadsides—with packs on their backs, umbrellas in hand, carrying loads on poles or pushing carts—walking ceaselessly across the ice. The monk Tripitaka is most eager to obtain the sutras. Seeing people crossing on the ice, he will certainly attempt to cross as well. Our lord can sit quietly in the middle of the river, and when he hears the sound of the monk's footsteps, he can shatter the ice. The monk and his disciples will all fall into the water at once, and we will capture them in a single stroke." When the monster heard this, his heart was filled with joy. "Excellent! Excellent!" He immediately left his water palace, mounted the vast sky, and raised wind and snow. The cold congealed and turned to ice—but we shall say no more of this.

Meanwhile, Tripitaka and his three disciples had lodged in the Chen household. As dawn approached, the master and his disciples lay shivering beneath thin coverings, their pillows cold. Bajie shivered and trembled so badly he could not sleep. "Brother," he cried, "it's freezing!" Wukong said, "You fool, what a sorry creature you are! We who have left the householder's life are supposed to be immune to both heat and cold. How can you be afraid of the cold?" Tripitaka said, "Disciple, it truly is cold. Look—it is just as the poem says:

Heavy quilts hold no warmth;

Hands tucked in sleeves, they feel like ice.

Now withered leaves hang with frost-covered buds,

And green pines are hung with frozen bells.

The ground is cracked from bitter cold,

The pond lies flat, the water turned to ice.

On the fishing boats no old fishermen are seen,

In the mountain temples, how could monks be found?

The woodcutter grieves that firewood is scarce,

The noble lord rejoices that charcoal abounds.

The soldier's beard is hard as iron,

The poet's brush is sharp as a diamond.

Even a leather coat seems too thin,

Even fox-fur robes are thought too light.

The old monk on his meditation mat is stiff with cold,

The traveler's spirit is startled in his paper bed-curtain.

Though wrapped in embroidered quilts and layered coverlets,

His whole body trembles and shivers."

Neither master nor disciples could sleep. They rose and dressed, then opened the door to look out. Ah! Outside, everything was a vast expanse of white—it was snowing! Wukong said, "So that is why you were all shivering—it is a snowfall such as this!" The four gazed at it together. What a magnificent snow! They saw:

Dense leaden clouds spread across the sky, and heavy, gloomy mists soaked the earth. The dense leaden clouds brought a howling north wind shrieking through the heavens; the heavy, gloomy mists brought a great snow covering the ground. Truly it was: six-petaled flakes, each one a flying gem; a thousand forest trees, each one adorned with jade. In an instant it piled up like powder, in a moment it formed like salt. The white parrot lost its whiteness by comparison; the snow-white crane was matched in its feathers. It added to the thousand rivers of Wu and Chu, and overpowered the plum blossoms of the southeast. It was indeed like the retreat of three million jade dragons, truly like broken scales and shattered armor filling the sky. Where could one find the shoes of the man of Dongguo, or Yuan An lying in his snow, or Sun Kong reading by snow-light? Still less could one see the boat of Ziyou, the coin of Wang Gong, or Su Wu eating felt in the snow. There were only a few village houses piled up like silver, and ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains like a great jade ball. What a splendid snow—willow catkins drifted across the bridges, pear blossoms covered the houses. Where willow catkins drifted across the bridges, by the bridge an old fisherman hung his rain cape; where pear blossoms covered the houses, beneath the houses an old countryman warmed himself by burning kindling. The traveler could find no wine to buy, the servant boy searched in vain for plum blossoms. The snow fell in a rushing, swirling dance, cutting the shapes of butterfly wings; it fluttered and floated, shearing the garments of wild geese. In great tumbling masses it followed the wind's momentum, in layered folds it made the roads a maze. The bitter cold pierced through the small curtains, the whistling chill penetrated the deep bed-curtains. Auspicious signs of a bountiful year descended from heaven—well may we rejoice at this good omen for the world below.

The snow fell thick and fast, truly like carved jute and flying silk.

The master and disciples marveled at it for some time. Then they saw the old master of the Chen household, attended by two servants who swept a path clear, while two others brought hot water for washing their faces. Shortly after, they brought steaming tea and milk cakes, and carried out a brazier of hot coals. All these were brought to the side chamber, where they sat together with the master and his disciples. The elder asked, "Old benefactor, in your region, do the seasons divide into spring, summer, autumn, and winter?" The old man Chen smiled and said, "Although this is a remote place, our customs and people differ from those of the great kingdom. But as for all manner of grain, crops, and livestock, we share the same heaven and the same sun—how could we not observe the four seasons?" Tripitaka said, "If you observe the four seasons, why is there such heavy snow and such bitter cold at this time?" Old Chen said, "Although it is now the seventh month, yesterday we passed White Dew—it is already the festival of the eighth month. Here it is common to have frost and snow during the eighth month." Tripitaka said, "How different it is from our land in the East! In my country, such things do not come until the winter solstice."

While they were still talking, another servant came to set the table and invited them to eat congee. After the congee, the snow was heavier than in the morning, and before long it lay two feet deep on the flat ground. Tang Sanzang grew anxious and wept.

Elder Chen said, "Master, set your mind at rest. Do not trouble yourself on account of the deep snow. I have several bushels of grain in my house — enough to provide for you all for half a lifetime."

San-zang replied, "Old benefactor, you do not know this poor monk's suffering. That year, by the sacred grace of the Emperor, I received his edict; his great retinue escorted me in person beyond the pass, and the Tang Emperor himself raised the cup in farewell, asking, 'When will you return?' Knowing nothing of the perils of mountains and rivers, I answered offhandedly: 'In only three years I can fetch the scriptures and return to the kingdom.' Since our parting, seven or eight years have already passed, and I have still not beheld the Buddha's face. I fear I have transgressed the imperial deadline; and what terrifies me further is the ferocity of demons and monsters — that is why I am so troubled. Today, by good fortune, I found lodging in your honorable residence. Last night my foolish disciples rendered a small kindness in return, and I had truly hoped to beg for a boat to cross the river. I did not expect heaven to send this heavy snow, blocking the road in every direction. I know not when I shall accomplish my quest and return to my homeland."

Elder Chen said, "Master, set your mind at rest. You have already endured the greater number of days — what matter these few more? Wait for clear weather, when the ice melts. Though it cost me my entire fortune, I will certainly arrange to send you across the river."

Just then another servant came to invite them to the morning meal. They went to the hall and finished eating. Before long had passed, the midday meal followed in its wake. Sanzang saw the abundance of dishes and said again and again, distressed: "Since I have been received as a guest, ordinary fare is quite sufficient."

Elder Chen said, "Master, I am indebted to you for the saving grace of the sacrificial prayer that rescued my life. Though I spread a feast for you each day, I could scarcely repay the debt."

After this the snow finally stopped, and people began to move about again. Seeing Sanzang still melancholy, Elder Chen swept out the garden, set up large braziers with fire, and invited them to amuse themselves in the snow pavilion to relieve their dullness.

Zhu Bajie laughed: "That old fellow has no sense at all. The second and third months of spring are fine for enjoying a garden — but with all this heavy snow and cold, what is there to admire?"

Sun Wukong said, "You blockhead, you understand nothing. A scene of snow has its own quiet beauty: in the first place it is pleasant to stroll and admire; in the second, it lightens our master's heart."

Elder Chen said, "Just so, just so." Thereupon he invited them to the garden. And this was what they saw:

The season was late autumn, yet the scene resembled the twelfth month. Dark pines bore jade-like buds; withered willows hung with silver blossoms. Below the steps, pale moss lay heaped like powder; before the windows, green bamboo sprouted crystal shoots. Upon the cunning rockery, within the fishpond — on the cunning rockery, sharp peaks arrayed like jade bamboo shoots; within the fishpond, clear living water had become a mirror of ice. By the bank, the hibiscus showed faint, tender hues; near the cliff, the rose of Sharon drooped with tender branches. The autumn crab-apple was wholly subdued; the winter plum put forth new shoots. The peony pavilion, the pomegranate pavilion, the osmanthus pavilion — every pavilion was buried deep in goose-feather snow; the place for freeing the heart, the place for entertaining guests, the place for stirring the spirit — everywhere butterfly-wing drifts were spread. Along two fences, yellow chrysanthemums gleamed like gold-threaded jade gauze; on several trees, red camellias showed white amid the crimson. Many a leisurely courtyard lay cold and unvisited; but gaze upon the snow pavilion — cold as ice. Within, there stood a bronze brazier with animal-mask and elephant-feet legs, its charcoal fire blazing warmly; above and below were several lacquered armchairs draped with tiger skins, soft and snug beneath paper windows.

On the four walls hung several scrolls of ancient paintings by famous masters, depicting:

The Seven Sages crossing the pass, fishing alone on a cold river, layered peaks and folded ridges massed with snow; Su Wu eating felt, plucking plum blossoms upon meeting the envoy, a forest of jade trees inscribed with tales of cold. Words cannot exhaust the theme: near the waterside pavilion, fish are easily bought; along snow-blinded mountain paths, wine is hard to find. Truly a place fit for folding one's knees — why need one seek the immortal isles of Penglai?

The company gazed and enjoyed themselves for a long while, then seated themselves in the snow pavilion. They spoke to the old neighbor about the scriptureseeking journey, and drank fragrant tea.

Elder Chen asked, "Would the honored lords care to drink some wine?"

Sanzang said, "This poor monk does not drink, but my young disciples may have a few cups of plain wine."

Elder Chen was overjoyed and at once commanded: "Bring plain fruits and warm wine, to warm our guests against the cold." The servants immediately set up tables around the brazier, and with the two neighbor elders each drank a few cups, then cleared away the vessels.

Before they realized it, the sky was growing dark, and they were again invited to the hall for the evening meal. They heard people on the street saying, "What a cold day — the River of Heaven has frozen over!"

Sanzang, hearing this, said, "Wukong, the river is frozen — what shall we do?"

Elder Chen said, "It has turned suddenly cold; likely it is the shallow water near the riverbank that has frozen."

But the passersby said, "The whole eight hundred li are frozen smooth as a mirror, and people are walking on it at the crossing!"

Sanzang, hearing that people were walking on it, wanted to go and look. Elder Chen said, "Master, do not hurry. It is late today — go look tomorrow." Thereupon they took leave of the neighbor elders. After the evening meal, they rested as before in the side chamber.

When dawn came the next day, Bajie rose and said, "Elder Brother, it was even colder last night — surely the river has frozen solid."

Sanzang, facing the door, bowed toward heaven and said, "All you divine guardians of the Dharma — this disciple has journeyed ever westward with a devoted heart to worship the Buddha, enduring hardship through mountains and rivers, without a single word of complaint. Now, arriving here, I feel the aid of imperial Heaven, which has frozen the river. This disciple offers empty thanks in his heart; when the scriptures are obtained and I return, I shall report to the Tang Emperor and repay your grace with all my sincerity."

After bowing, he told Sha Wujing to carry the horse and cross the river on the ice. Elder Chen again said, "Do not be hasty. Wait a few days for the snow to melt and the ice to thaw — I will arrange a boat here to ferry you across."

Sha Wujing said, "To go now would be unwise, yet to stay longer would also be unwise. Mere words are not proof — hearing with the ears is not equal to seeing with the eyes. I will carry the horse and ask our master to go and see for himself."

Elder Chen said, "What you say is reasonable." He instructed: "Boys, go quickly and saddle our six horses. But do not saddle the Tang Master's horse."

Six young servants followed. The party went straight to the riverbank to look, and truly:

Snow piled high like mountains soaring, clouds dispersed at the clear dawn's light. Cold congealed upon a thousand peaks of Chu, thinning them to gauntness; ice bound the rivers and lakes into one flat expanse. The north wind blew bitterly, the freezing slickness was treacherous. Pond fish huddled against dense weeds; wild birds clung to dry driftwood. On the frontier, soldiers' fingers cracked from the cold; by the river, boatmen chattered their teeth. Snake bellies split, bird feet snapped—truly, the icebergs stretched a thousand feet. Ten thousand gullies floated cold as silver; one river valley was steeped in icy jade. The East could well believe its silkworms frozen stiff; the North indeed had its rat burrows. Wang Xiang lay upon the ice, Guangwu crossed the stream—in one night the creek bridges froze solid to the bottom. Curdled layers formed in the winding ponds; deep abysses solidified in stacked sheets. The vast waters stretching to heaven held no wave; the gleaming ice spread smooth as dry land.

The Tripitaka and his companions arrived at the riverbank and reined in their horses to look. Sure enough, there were people walking along the path. Tripitaka asked, "Lay patron, where are those people going by crossing the ice?" Old Chen replied, "On the other side of the river lies the Kingdom of Western Liang, the Land of Women. These people are all merchants. A thing worth a hundred cash on my side can be worth ten thousand cash there; a thing worth a hundred cash there can also be worth ten thousand cash on my side. The profits are great while the capital is small, so men risk life and death to go. In ordinary years, families send five or seven people in a boat, or ten or more, to cross the ocean. Now that the river has frozen over, they risk their lives walking instead." Tripitaka said, "Of all worldly matters, nothing is more prized than fame and profit. Men like these who seek profit abandon life and forget death. My disciples, in carrying out the Emperor's command with wholehearted loyalty, do so only for fame—how different are we from them?" He called out, "Wukong, quickly return to the patron's house, pack our bags, saddle the horse, and take advantage of this ice to hasten westward while we can." The Pilgrim cheerfully agreed.

Sha Monk said, "Master, as the saying goes: 'A thousand days of eating a thousand sheng of rice.' We have already imposed on the Chen household. Let us stay a few more days until the weather warms and the ice thaws, then arrange a boat to cross. Haste may lead to mistakes." Tripitaka said, "Wujing, how can you be so foolish? If it were the first or second month, each day warmer than the last, we could wait for the ice to thaw. But this is the eighth month—each day colder than the last. How can we expect it to thaw? Wouldn't that delay us another half a year of travel?"

Bajie leaped down from his horse. "Stop your idle chatter, all of you, and let this old pig test how thick it is." The Pilgrim said, "Idiot, when we tested the water the other night, you could throw a stone. Now the ice is frozen solid—how can you test it?" Bajie said, "Brother, you don't know. Let me strike it with my rake. If I break through, the ice is too thin and we dare not cross. If I can't break it, the ice is thick enough—why shouldn't we go?" Tripitaka said, "Indeed, that makes sense." The idiot hitched up his robe, strode to the riverbank, raised his rake with both hands, and struck with all his might. There was a loud *thwack*—he left nine white marks, and his hands throbbed with pain. Bajie laughed, "We can go, we can go! It's frozen solid all the way to the bottom."

Tripitaka was overjoyed at this and returned with the others to the Chen household, instructing them only to prepare for departure. The two old men tried in vain to detain them, so they instead arranged some dried provisions, roasted grain, and made baked buns and flatbreads to send them off. The whole family kowtowed and bowed, then brought out a tray of scattered gold and silver, kneeling before them. "We are deeply grateful to you, masters, for saving our child. Please accept this humble token of a meal's worth of respect for your journey." Tripitaka waved his hand and shook his head, refusing outright. "I am a monk of the cloth—what use have I for money and valuables? Even on the road I dare not take it out. I live by begging for alms—that is my proper calling. The dried provisions are enough." The two old men pressed him again and again. The Pilgrim pinched off a small piece with his fingertips, about four or five mace in weight, and handed it to Tripitaka. "Master, take it as pocket money at least—don't let the old couple's goodwill go unacknowledged."

Thus they parted and made straight for the ice on the riverbank. The horse's hooves slipped, nearly throwing Tripitaka from the saddle. Sha Monk said, "Master, it's hard going." Bajie said, "Hold on—let's ask Old Chen for some straw to use." The Pilgrim said, "What do you want straw for?" Bajie said, "How would you know? We need to wrap the horse's hooves in straw so they won't slip and throw the Master off." Old Chen, listening from the shore, hurriedly ordered someone to fetch a bundle of straw from his house and asked Tripitaka to come ashore and dismount. Bajie wrapped the horse's feet in the straw, then they set out across the ice.

They took leave of Old Chen and left the riverbank, traveling three or four miles. Bajie handed the nine-ringed staff to Tripitaka. "Master, carry this across your lap on the horse." The Pilgrim said, "This idiot is crafty. The staff was yours to carry—why make the Master hold it?" Bajie said, "You've never walked on ice, so you don't know. Wherever there's a frozen surface, there are sure to be air pockets under the ice. If you step on one and fall through, and you don't have something to brace across, you'll plunge into the water and be trapped as if a giant pot lid were covering you—how could you ever get out? You must hold it like this to be safe." The Pilgrim laughed inwardly, "This idiot is an old hand at walking on ice." And indeed they all followed him: the Elder held the staff across his lap, the Pilgrim held his iron rod across his, Sha Monk held his demon-subduing staff across his, Bajie carried the luggage on his shoulder with his rake slung at his waist, and the master and disciples advanced with ease. They traveled until evening, ate some dried provisions, and dared not linger long. By the light of the stars and moon, they saw the ice gleaming bright and white, and pressed on without stopping—truly the horses never rested. The master and disciples did not dare close their eyes, traveling through the whole night. At dawn they ate more provisions and pressed westward again.

As they were traveling, there came a sudden *crack* from beneath the ice, nearly startling the white horse to its knees. Tripitaka cried in alarm, "Disciples! What was that sound?" Bajie said, "The river is frozen so solidly that the ice is groaning. Perhaps it's frozen solid all the way to the bottom in the middle." Tripitaka was both alarmed and delighted at this. He urged his horse forward and hastened on without delay.

Now that demon, having returned to his watery lair, led all his spirits beneath the ice. They waited a long time, and when they heard the sound of hoofbeats, he worked his magic from below and the ice burst open with a sudden crack. The Great Sage Sun was so startled he leaped into the air, but the white horse had already fallen into the water, and the three of them were all swept away.

The demon seized the Tang monk and led his host of spirits straight back to the watery palace. He cried out in a thunderous voice: "Where is Sister Bream?" The old bream wife came to the door and bowed. "Great King, I dare not, I dare not." The demon said, "Sister, why do you speak so? 'Once a word is spoken, four horses cannot overtake it.' I originally agreed to follow your plan: capture the Tang monk and make you my sworn sister. Today your splendid plan has succeeded and the Tang monk is captured—so how could I go back on my word?" He commanded: "Little ones, bring out the table, sharpen the knives, and let us cut open this monk's belly, gouge out his heart, strip off his skin and slice off his flesh. At the same time, strike up the music—let us eat him together with my sister, to prolong our lives and gain immortality." The bream wife said, "Great King, do not eat him yet. I fear his disciples will come looking for him and make a disturbance. Let us wait patiently two days. If those fellows do not come searching, then we can cut him open. I invite the Great King to sit in the seat of honor while all your kinsfolk gather around, playing music and singing, presenting him to the Great King to enjoy at leisure—would that not be better?" The demon followed his sister's advice and hid Tripitaka behind the palace, sealing him inside a six-foot-long stone casket. Of this, no more.

Now Pigsy and Monk Sha had fished the luggage from the water, placed it on the white horse's back to carry, parted the water, and surged through the waves, riding the current to the surface. The Pilgrim, watching from midair, called down: "Where is the Master?" Pigsy said: "The Master's surname is Chen, and his name is 'Sunk to the Bottom.' There's no finding him now—let's get ashore and figure out what to do." Now Pigsy had been the Marshal of Heavenly Reeds in his former life, and in those days he had commanded the Eighty Thousand Soldiers of the River of Heaven. Monk Sha had come from the Flowing Sand River. The white horse was a grandson of the Dragon King of the Western Sea. For this reason, all of them understood the ways of water. The Great Sage guided them from the air, and in no time they returned to the eastern bank. They dried the horse in the sun and wrung out their clothes. The Great Sage brought his cloud down, and together they went to the village of the Chen family. Someone had already reported to the two old men: "The four lords who went to fetch the scriptures—only three have come back." The brothers hurried out to meet them and indeed found their clothes still wet. "Your Honors," they said, "we begged you so earnestly to stay, but you would not listen—you insisted on going no matter what. How is it that Lord Tripitaka is not here?" Pigsy said: "He is no longer called Tripitaka. He has been renamed 'Chen Sunk to the Bottom.'" The two old men wept and said: "How pitiful! How pitiful! I said we should wait for the melt and prepare a boat to send you across, but you stubbornly refused—and now it has cost him his life." The Pilgrim said: "Old fellow, do not grieve over ancient sorrows. My Master—I guarantee he will not die. I know for certain it must be the Great Marvel King who used his sorcery to snatch him away. Put your minds at ease. Wash our clothes for us, dry out our travel documents, and get fodder for the white horse. Let my brothers and me find that creature, rescue the Master, and root out the evil once and for all. I will rid your whole village of this menace so that you may live in peace forever." When the old man Chen heard this, his heart was filled with joy, and he immediately ordered a vegetarian feast to be prepared.

The three brothers ate their fill, then entrusted the horse and luggage to the Chen family for safekeeping. Each one readied his weapon and they went straight to the riverbank to find their Master and capture the demon. Truly:

By misstepping on the layered ice, their true nature was harmed—

How could the Great Elixir be made whole once it had leaked away?

How Tripitaka was to be rescued, however, will be told in the next chapter.